


Over The Moon And More

by Culindus



Category: Original Work
Genre: Original work - Freeform, Other, Short Stories, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-31 01:38:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17839949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Culindus/pseuds/Culindus
Summary: a collection of random short stories i write





	1. The Storms That Wind Brings

      Breath is like the wind, ongoing and soft. It blows things to a new horizon, keeping things alive. Just like the wind; breath stops, it doesn't go on forever. After one stops, a new one begins. After a creature takes its last breath, one takes it's first. It falls and rises, like the tides. Strong, like when a wave hits the side of a mighty cliff. Soft, like on a calm sunny day when the tides float onto the beach with a gentle touch.

     One breath at a time, thats all it takes to keep life pumping. Every wave against the beach brings in more energy. On dime days the waves join in a raging storm, pacing as fast as the mighty winds. Tears fall like the rain, breaking apart each wave, every breath. Thunder cracks across the sky as each sob and cry for help break free from the many waves. You fall under the waves, further and further. Each moment might be that last before that dark bottom of the sea consumes all you are and more.

     A hug is like a net, gathering you from the bottom of the sea, where you lay. It gathers you up and brings you to the top, calming the raging waves and winds. It gives you breath, lets you calm. It is the beginning of the end of the mighty storm that the winds brought onto you. With it comes calm winds, kind words and breaths, to push away to storm. With it goes the rain and waves, leaving only your breath, your wind.

     At times a hug does not help, for the wind it brings is too weak. Sometimes a hug brings on strong winds that keep the storm going. Each scream for help can go unheard, every cry can be silenced. Nails can dig into your sides like blades made of ice. Every shard that buries itself in your mind, into your soul, cutting away every bit of joy that you still have. Every thought is a piece of hail raining down on you, making the storm rage on and on. At the end of the storm, your breath, your mind, your thoughts, and your joy all stop. After all of it, the waves, the wind, the hail, and the sun all disappear.

After all of it, your chained at the bottom of the sea, never to be found again.


	2. Sparks Of Anger

     We watch the flames burn on, being fed by the very words we speak. Every breath we breathe is filled with smoke, the bitterness of the flames that surround us. Every word we speak could be our last, every breath we take could kill us. **  
**

     We try to run from it; we try to take a fresh breath, but the smoke is getting thicker. Every word, every scream that we cry do nothing but spur it on. Our words rage it on, for every word we speak is a new spark.

     It all started in such a simple way; just a single fight. Things were so calm before, like a bright forest. Things were perfect, no mistake to be seen until it happened. That fight, that spark, started a fire that grew more and more every day.

     The rope holding all of it together finally snapped, and our forest started to burn down into nothing. We didn't know what was happening till it was too late, till it all was too far gone. We tried to put out the flames, but they build up more and more with every attempt we tried.

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     Finally one day the last tree burned down, as the ground was soaked with blood, blood that should never have spilt. It finally went over the edge, it finally went too far.

     He now sat alone on the ground, bloodied knuckles still dripping. A beaten body, a bloody corpse, laid before him. The house lay quiet, as the oxygen that lit them was taken away; as the breath was taken from her lips. Her very last words being screams of hatred; threats that now mean nothing to the world, to him. His breath sped quick, from the rush of the fight that now lay settled.

     Tears fall, as he finally lays his eyes on what he has done. Every thought in his mind racing, trying to make sense of how this happened; of what caused this. He stands there shaking, finally falling to the ground. He wraps his arms around her, around the corpse that lay there, holding her close.

     Death can be a hard thing to face; anger can be hard to control. Soon after the night the fire died, the night that they forest finished burning, the man and his wife both layed buried in the ground. Emotions can take over peoples lives, can spur them on to do horrible things.


	3. pride

    One moment is all it takes for pride to bloom. In the world around you lay thousands of your own kind, each with traits that differ from your own. Every second that you breath and blink is one that all the others do as well. Every action is repeated and done by everybody, and yet they all still hold some form of meaning. Even if it's been done a thousand times before, helping those around you can bring out a feeling stronger than joy.

     Some never get to feel such joy, such pride. Some people live lives where nothing joyous can be formed, for the darkness surrounds them till they can't take it anymore. Some live mundane lives where their day to day is the same. Some people are too shy to do something that could bring pride, whereas others are too outgoing for things to feel worthwhile.

     Small things can bring on small bursts of pride, like finishing something your proud of or working hard. Small bursts don't last very long, but they may bring you up to the skies just the same. Pride can cause dark moments as well, for nothing is perfect.

     Some carry too much pride, who start to carry selfishness and become narcissistic. They bring down those around them to keep up their overflow of pride. They chip away at the pride that others around them carry so they can carry it themselves. After a lifetime of this it takes them over, and they can no longer tell what they are anymore. They become an unforgiving creature, one that does not care for those around them.

Pride can be a good thing, but it can be taken too far.


End file.
